Definition Of Happiness
by Clavemien Nigram Rosa
Summary: He wonders if there really is a concrete answer to his question. Maybe she can answer him. Ah, she always does look pretty while playing the piano. "Can you tell me what happiness is?" "There's more than a million answers to it." A conversation in a music room. A realization. Maybe, just maybe he can get a clue why his heart beats so fast whenever she's around.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Vocaloid_

_A/N: Okay, a short one-shot dedicated to all my readers. I am so sorry for the long wait; the next chapter of _**Promises and Heartbreak **_is currently in progress._

_I hope you guys make do with this for now. If you like it, I might make a sequel to it, I don't know. My current priority is Promises and Heartbreak_

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_**Definition of "Happiness" **_

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The outsiders all notice a continuous melody floating across the lilac room. Some linger and enjoy the heartwarming feeling the melody brings about, while others merely walk pass by it with a hint of a smile on their faces.

Of course, it is not unusual for that room to produce different kinds of classical sounds; it is a wide room with music scores, music stands and chairs, built solely for the instruments and the musicians who play them: the violins, the cellos, the harps, the flutes, the oboes, the grand ebony piano alongside many others reside in that lilac room. That room is something open to all; you are free to use it anytime you wish, so as long nobody occupies it first, of course. The pair sitting together on the piano bench producing the repetitive melody takes advantage of this privilege as they've been there for more than two hours. Fingers dance across the keys as the melody resumes; a duet produced by the two occupants of the room.

The person seated on the right side of the bench, with bright cerulean eyes, stops momentarily in his playing. He looks thoughtful as he removes his fingers from the ivory keys (the question repeats itself in his mind…he is a curious person by nature and he wonders what the real answer to his question is, if there is a solid answer to it), his partner, though, does not seem to notice the lack of accompaniment, or perhaps has decided to ignore it for the while; he did stop playing right in the middle of the piece (his partner never did like leaving a piece unfinished.) So he waits, waits and observes her peaceful and contented countenance. It warms his heart unintentionally. (He has yet to learn why.) His partner does not notice his fond gaze for her eyes are closed and her fingers continue to glide across the keys. (She is self-taught, a cantabile in the piano and he admits that he is slightly jealous for he spent years of learning before reaching her level of playing.)

Finally, the piece ends (its title is Heart and Soul, it is one of the pieces they often play together because of the lively tune it creates) she lifts her fingers from the keys and he finally catches a glimpse of her beautiful eyes (crystalline blue, it is most unique, he often thinks) that are often obscured by the thick lenses she wears (the light reflecting from her eyeglasses hides her pretty eyes more often than not, he finds himself considering getting her to use contact lenses instead.)

"Stare at me more and I'll melt Len." Her voice, light and teasing, makes him abashed. "S-sorry, spaced out there." He offers weakly. She suppresses a laugh and hums thoughtfully, tapping keys in the process. "Why'd you stop playing?" She inquires.

So she did choose to ignore it. She looks at him expectantly with her pretty face. (He really is lacking adjectives to describe her. He decides that he should expand his vocabulary. But, well, she is, overall, a very pretty person; he has no qualms about that.)

Glancing at her, he thinks about how he should voice out his question. Will she find him strange if he asks it straight out? No, he doubts it. His partner, Rin, is pretty open minded aside from the fact that she is a heavy reader, a self-taught pianist and a borderline anti-social. It's just that she buries herself in her hard bound novels (they hurt when you get hit by them, really, he would know from experience) or immerses herself in playing (it's very hard to stop her when she's in the "zone") and hardly speaks two words to people. She doesn't dislike company; it's just that her love for reading and playing the piano overrides her interest in communication and interaction.

So, he seriously considers it a miracle that they're even friends, _close _friends because truth be told years back they used to grate each other's nerves.

.

"_You friggin bookworm."_

"…"

"_You irritate me."_

"…"

"_Why can't you just do the project with me? God, is it so hard to do?"_

_No response. The only noise produced by her was the page being turned._

_Len's eyes twitched. She ignored him. What's-her-name ignored him._

"_Damn it, why can't you just-!"_

_He never really got to finish his sentence, not when a thick copy of Les Miserables hit him square in the face. She looked at him, adjusting her frames. It was the first time he ever saw her eyes and it was a very beautiful shade of blue._

"…_I hate annoying people." She murmured as she glared at him. "You, especially." _

_He shook his thoughts away and glared back._

"_Then we have something in common."_

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(But that is a story of the past, a different story reserved for a different time). He can say at least, that she speaks a whole lot more now when they're together than when they're apart.

That and their friendship improved immensely over the years. They made a very large progress (She refrained from hitting him with books and he stopped insulting her standoff-ish attitude; sooner than they realized, they had become friends.)

And it all started with him hearing her play the piano. A fleeting moment, somewhere right after the project was done and they avoided each other like a plague.

Len would never forget how she looked. Or how the music came to life under her fingers.

And he would never forget how pretty her smile was at that time.

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Minutes pass and she still waits patiently for his answer. He takes in her attractive features and his cheeks grow hot. _Focus, he reminds himself._ "Rin…" Len asks tentatively. "Can you tell me what _happiness _is? I really can't get a solid answer." Rin's eyes sparkle just a bit in the glimmer of the sunlight and he finds himself admiring her again as she considers his question. "What is happiness?" She echoes and absently runs her fingers through the keys. "What is happiness for me? Or what is happiness in general? It's a broad topic, you know."

"…Then, let's start with what's happiness for you."

"Happiness for me is when we spend time together. The moments we share, the time we have, for me happiness is staying by your side and smiling and laughing with you." She says and gives him a smile.

Len fights down (unsuccessfully) the blush that dusts across his cheeks at her remark; really, how can she say something so honestly and simply like that?

"What about reading books? Or playing the piano? Don't those things give you happiness?" He asks confused. She gives him an amused look. "It makes me happy," She allows. "But I don't take the word _happiness _lightly. Those kinds of things pale in comparison to what I told you."

"I see…" He murmurs. She has a point. "Then what is happiness in general, Rin?"

She shakes her head at him and smiles. "There's no specific definition for what happiness is, Len." She says and taps his cheek. "You see, happiness is different for every person; for everyone and anyone, happiness has varied definitions. That's why you can never answer that question no matter how hard you try. There are more than a million answers to it."

She smiles at him warmly. "You never did change your 'there's an answer to everything and only one answer' belief, Len." She comments laughing. "It's why I almost whacked you with a book all those years ago, didn't I?"

"…Yeah. Old habits die hard." He says as he frowns at the memory. He narrowly missed being hit by a hard bound copy of _Little Women, _all because he insisted everything was concrete as stone and that there were no such things as two answers to a question. It was a strange belief with many loopholes but Len stood by it. It was followed by Rin saying that stones are very much prone to weathering…so to say that his belief sucked.

It. Was. War.

Ah, those memories from spring…it was way before they made a truce.

"But it doesn't matter; that narrow minded belief of yours is what makes you so cute." She says teasingly and despite himself, he blushes again. (His cheeks are abused from all the red, besides, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?) She starts playing again, this time a different piece and he finds himself enjoying watching her play.

_So what is happiness?_

_Happiness is something one cannot define, he decides. But if one asks "what is happiness for you?" then one can easily answer it._

What is happiness for me? He wonders. Blinking suddenly at the thought that rushed in his head, he finds himself smiling slightly. Rin is wrong; he chuckles mentally as he finds a loophole in her statement. He soon joins her in playing and his heart feels the familiar feeling that always makes him smile.

She said that happiness is different for every person…not him, though, he is an exception. He has proof too.

Because his own definition of happiness is very much the same with hers.

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_End_

_I hope you enjoyed._

_Please Review._

_Clavemien Nigram Rosa_

_(Can't get enough RinxLen, can you?)_


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